


Come With Me (If You Want To Love)

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex is a machine, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Terminator Fusion, M/M, Michael is his creator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22939210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: Alex Manes is a machine given sentience and emotions by Michael Guerin in a future dominated by Skynet. What neither of them expected was for Alex to develop the capability to love.When the sky falls down around them and his whole world falls to pieces, Alex chooses not to avenge what he's lost, but instead to go back in time and make sure it never happens in the first place.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 18
Kudos: 87





	Come With Me (If You Want To Love)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [irolltwenties (Shenanigans)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shenanigans/gifts).



> Originally written as one of my birthday fills for Meagn, but cleaned up and dropped here because of Tumblr's formatting weirdness.

He is Alex Manes.  
  
Months ago, he had been nothing more than a T-1001 model that had been sitting in Dr. Guerin’s lab, awaiting upgrades. Dr. Guerin had installed him with a chip and explained that he would continue to adapt and learn. He had accepted this, confirming his understanding, and then had accepted his purpose to learn, adapt, and exist in this small bunker.  
  
Skynet is still out there, and they want Dr. Guerin dealt with, because he’s the only mind that can develop something that could bring them to their knees.  
  
Michael Guerin. His creator.  
  
He had been given the choice of many names and of those options, had selected this one for himself. He’s to be called Alex Manes, and it’s his choice. Michael had pat him on the back, brushing his thumb against the line of his shoulder blades, and Alex thought to himself that humanity’s need for affection is a simple thing, but one he can learn.   
  
He grows and learns more.  
  
He learns to seek out those touches. He assists Dr. Guerin in his experiments and allows him to run baseline tests. They take meals together, even though Alex doesn’t require sustenance. They indulge in late night conversations while they play chess together.   
  
Alex grows fond of Michael Guerin, at the same time as his software adapts and develops to become more sentient and human-like.   
  
“What’s it like?”  
  
Michael looks up from where he’s working on a new model, though it doesn’t look similar to Alex. Michael’s designs all have a unique body and face, because he wants to give them personalities and sentience, to allow them to _be_ without having to look at a clone of one’s self. “Gotta be a lot more specific here, Alex.”  
  
“Falling in love.”  
  
Alex is sure that he’s experiencing new amorous emotions towards Michael. His software changes and adapts by the day, but what he finds is that there’s something new developing that he can’t put a name to.  
  
When Michael looks up at him in the middle of his experiments and smiles, a warmth overcomes him. The confident touch of Michael’s fingers through his grey curls as he settles in with a drink for the night coaxes fondness in Alex, and a desire to settle in with him, on his lap. The way he says Alex’s name, the way he trusts him with his secrets, and the simple fact that he’d given him life are all things that tangle together like a Gordian knot that only grows with each passing day.  
  
There is a truth hiding within it that Alex is finally beginning to comprehend: Alex is a machine in love with his creator.  
  
Michael looks fascinated by the concept. “You think you could fall in love?”  
  
“I don’t think it.” Alex is sure of that much. He holds Michael’s gaze, allowing the unspoken implication to carry between them.  
  
Michael looks away, clearing his throat. “I’m sure you’re misinterpreting the signals coming from your processing chip.”  
  
It’s a long-winded way of Michael trying to rationalize away Alex’s feelings, but Alex knows better than to argue. Michael doesn’t believe him, but love isn’t about belief. Even though he’s only beginning to understand it, he knows this much.  
  
The topic isn’t brought up again.   
  
Michael continues to educate him about world history and what happened to make it come crumbling to its knees. Alex learns about Skynet and Michael’s history with them, when he's not learning about early 1980’s rock music, glam-rock-punk, scientific theories, and Michael’s own brand of odd hobbies, like collecting old vintage model cars and putting them together.  
  
Alex lifts up an old Ford Coupe and gives him an amused smile. “Is this what you do when the machines are too complicated?” he teases.  
  
Michael rolls his eyes, but snatches the model car out of his hand. “You tease, but it’s a good way to destress, like programmers have a rubber duck.”  
  
Alex’s informational banks have nothing on that, which is why Michael launches into yet another story.  
  
He learns in leaps and bounds. Within months, Alex is nothing like the machine that had first been given consciousness. He feels more human than machine, even if there are parts of him that are still being developed. Michael’s only just installed his contacts so his eyes don’t glow red, and because they can’t go out into the world freely, the skin grafts Michael has been working on don’t cover his whole body.  
  
Yet, this little existence is hardly one that Alex minds.   
  
He’s here with the man he loves. There’s nothing about it that Alex would trade.   
  
Then, one day, the sky falls down.  
  
Alex had been in the middle of rearranging Michael’s model cars, making sure they’re in the right order when he hears the whistle from above. “Michael!” he shouts. “Down!”  
  
It's too late. His warning hadn’t been early enough before the bunker crumbles with the force of a missile from the sky.   
  
It’s the invasion they’ve been wary of. Out there in the world, the machines that Michael has been making are trying to stand up against the enemy, but their resistance is small and futile. They’re no match for the onslaught of the force that Skynet is bringing to bear. Within hours, everything beneath their feet will be reduced to rubble.  
  
Someone out there has turned on them and given up their location.  
  
While Alex has been learning about love and fondness and trust, some of Michael’s other creations must have discovered cowardice.   
  
“Alex, run,” Michael insists, his eyes panicked. His grey curls fall in his eyes, and Alex looks upon his creator with confusion. He’s a machine. Despite their conversations about love and what Alex might feel, Michael must know that deep down, he’s still only a machine and will survive the bunker falling in on them.  
  
Yet, he wants Alex to survive and intends to put his own life before Alex’s. Alex strides forward, intent on getting them both out of there. He reaches for Michael to pick him up and take him out of there when his hand slides through a sticky substance.   
  
Blood.   
  
Michael’s chest is covered in blood, and when he looks down, he sees a bullet-wound that’s entered his chest. Skynet hadn’t been content to simply crash in the bunker, they’d made sure to take Michael out with a single shot during the chaos, so that Alex couldn’t stand between the rifle and Michael’s body.   
  
“Michael,” Alex exhales his name, his chest aching like it, too, might cave in.  
  
It's a terrible time for him to learn about grief.   
  
“Alex, please. Go. Escape. You need to save the world.”  
  
It’s the last thing he says before Michael Guerin’s heart stops, the blood from his body beginning to sluggishly slow, no longer coating any more of the remaining pieces of the bunker.  
  
Collecting Michael’s body into his arms, Alex collapses on the ground and rocks back and forth, his cheeks wet with a strange substance. It’s only later that he realizes that he’s _crying_ for the first time, and that it’s a symptom of his grief. He knows that he’d been in love, but to lose Michael when the entire world could have been theirs to save is an awful thing.   
  
Alex doesn’t go anywhere. He doesn’t escape. He doesn’t even think about saving the world, because if he’s not doing it with Michael, then what’s the point of doing it at all?  
  
He spends the next few weeks inside Michael’s bunker evaluating his options. Michael’s last wish had been immensely clear. He wants Alex to escape and to avenge his death. Michael Guerin had been the world’s foremost mind in strategy and evaluating the best steps forward for the future. He’d invented numerous weapons and machines to fight Skynet. He’d also invented something smarter than him, then given him _emotions.  
  
_ Alex doesn’t want to avenge Michael’s death.  
  
He wants to prevent it.  
  
Three weeks after the bunker came crashing down, Alex amasses all the supplies he needs. He puts on Michael’s leather jacket and sunglasses, equips himself with as many weapons as he can possibly put on his body, and then cobbles together Michael’s technology to send him back thirty years in the past, just as Skynet made their first assault.   
  
He needs to go back to before Michael had invented any of his robots, and before Alex Manes fell in love with his creator and all the equipment he requires is within this bunker.  
  
Michael wants him to protect the world, but as far as Alex is concerned, there is no world without Michael for him.   
  
It takes him one more week, but then Alex has cracked it.  
  
The portal that stands between him and the past glows furiously bright amidst the wreckage of their old lab. Dressed in Michael’s clothes, ready for a war, Alex steps towards it with a singular goal in mind.  
  
Go back in time, find Michael Guerin, and make sure he lives.   
  
Right now, with nothing left but a mission, Alex can allow himself to be more a machine than a human. Until he’s sure that Michael is safe, he locks away any shred of humanity that might be lingering, knowing that it’s a liability. It had allowed him to grow complacent in the future and had brought the sky falling down around them.  
  
He won’t make that mistake again.  
 _  
*  
  
_ The machine in front of Michael collapses, dies in a shower of sparks, and confirms his fears that prototype five isn’t going to work.   
  
“Fuck,” he says, because he’s starting to lose hope when it comes to his designs.   
  
At twenty-seven, he’s beginning to think that he’s chosen the wrong path and that for all his mechanical engineering genius, it won’t matter if he can’t even assemble a simple machine. He sweeps at the parts with his foot to get them out of the way, glumly staring at the empty table in front of him as he decides what he’s going to try next.   
  
He should give up.   
  
That’s the message, right?  
  
If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again. If by the twentieth time, you don’t succeed, then you should give the fuck up.   
  
Michael collapses back into a chair, grabbing a bottle of beer so he can stare at the screws and bolts, wondering if he’s ever going to figure it out. He finishes the beer and doesn’t have an answer, so instead, he throws it into the nearby can and starts the next, because it’s easier than actually facing the existential question of what he’s doing with his life.  
  
He's three beers in when things get _weird_.  
  
There’s a spark nearby, then a portal seems to come out of nowhere, and all of a sudden, Michael’s not alone.  
  
He jumps to his feet in a haphazard, clumsy way, eyes widening as he looks at the other man, who turns to dismantle the portal, all those sparks of lightning and energy vanishing.   
  
“How,” starts Michael. “What…? Who?”  
  
“Doctor,” says the attractive man standing in front of his Airstream.  
  
Michael gapes, not sure what the hell is going on. For one, he’s not even halfway through his doctorate. Secondly, where the hell did this guy come from, if not his dreams? He’s wearing sunglasses and a leather jacket, looking effortlessly cool and calm, and _hot_. Fuck, the guy is hot. His hair is artfully mussed, almost like it had been arranged that way with careful precision, and he stands with confidence, head tipped to the side to study him.  
  
Man, he really needs to lay off the booze in the middle of the day.  
  
It’s almost a shame he’s definitely got the wrong place. “Sorry,” he says, turning to lock up the lab behind him, in the abandoned storage container, because he might be hot, but he’s still a stranger and he doesn’t want to invite any trouble to his work. “No doctors here.”  
  
“Dr. Michael Guerin,” the man says, a little sharper. “Born in Roswell, New Mexico. Adopted from the group home at seven, nine, ten, and thirteen by different families. IQ of 187,” he lists, “former relationships with Maria DeLuca, Andrew Epps, and Catarina Cortez.” There’s something in his voice that sounds brittle and annoyed, almost like jealousy, which is wild considering Michael would remember if he’d somehow ensnared a male model like this.  
  
“Look, buddy,” Michael says, heatedly, because he doesn’t like the presumptuous tone that he should know him. “I’m in the middle of my doctorate, and I don’t know you, so you can stop the stalker act anytime.”  
  
“My name is Alex Manes. I’m from the future,” he says, “and I’m here to save your life, Doctor.” As he speaks, he’s wandering around the scrapyard like he’s checking for traps, but comes to a stop near Michael’s Airstream, almost like he’s been shot.  
  
Michael frowns, not sure what it is that could’ve made him stop like that, but when he approaches, he can see that Alex is looking at Michael’s measly little model car collection. Right now, there’s some glue on the table next to a Porsche, and a half-finished Ford Coupe. “They’re just toys,” he says dismissively.   
  
“Can I hold this one?” he asks, holding up the Ford.  
  
Michael waves a hand, not caring. “I can glue it back together, just don’t smash it to pieces.”  
  
“I’d never,” Alex vows softly.   
  
Michael’s not sure why these cars have got Alex so emotional, but hey, who the hell is he to know about people from the future? He shakes his head dismissively, crossing his arms as he decides that he needs to go back to what he’d said earlier.   
  
“Go back to the save my life part,” he says. “What, do I eat too many burgers and my cholesterol gives me a heart attack?” There are so many other questions he wants to ask, namely about the technology that allowed Alex to come back in time, and _who_ he is that he would come back for him. “Or was it an old boyfriend or girlfriend? I knew my talents in the bedroom would come back to haunt me someday.”  
  
Alex isn’t laughing at any of it.   
  
Tough crowd.  
  
“There’s an organization that becomes sentient, around this time,” he says. “Skynet.”  
  
“Never heard of it. You sure Google didn’t just develop feelings?”  
  
“You need to stop joking about this,” Alex says sharply.   
  
Michael raises both hands to show that he’s done joking around, even if he’s not sure that he believes any of this just yet. “Okay,” he says. “Then how about you tell me why I need to be worried about these guys?  
  
He settles back in the chair, but doesn’t grab another beer.  
  
Alex pushes the sunglasses to the top of his head and stands in front of Michael in a soldier-like stance as he begins to detail a horrific-sounding history about the end of the world, with nuclear missiles sending them back into the dark ages, allowing a new strain of sentient technology to rise to rule. It sounds barbaric and awful, especially the loss of life levels that Alex is talking about.   
  
By the end, Michael’s stomach is sick with the thought of that world, and he’s not sure what _he’s_ supposed to do about any of this.  
  
“So why me? Why do they want me?”  
  
“Because you’re the only man that can stop them, now or then. I suspect you’re already being watched,” Alex says. “You need to come with me, if you want to live. Grab your things, pack a bag, and we need to go.”  
  
“What?” Michael sputters. “My inventions are here, I have whole labs and research, I have people in Roswell that I care about! I can’t just _go_!”  
  
“You have to,” Alex insists, an edge of panic in his voice. “Michael, if I don’t protect you now, then the future won’t change. Then you’re going to…”  
  
 _Oh_.  
  
Michael is beginning to understand this. He’s even beginning to understand the panic in Alex’s voice. Whatever reason he might have come back for, he cares about Michael’s well-being, even if he’s not framing it like that. He glances to the lab, then to his Airstream. He’s always thought that he’s done a decent job keeping himself off the grid, but if he’d been found by Alex, then who’s to say that those other _things_ aren’t hot on his tail.  
  
“How long can I have to pack up?”  
  
“Thirty minutes. I’ll help,” Alex says evenly, and the sunglasses slide back into place. “Take only what you need. I’ll make sure that we find a place where you can continue your projects.”   
  
Michael nods and heads inside to grab two duffel bags. He shoves in a few clothes, but his project materials far outweigh anything else. He adds in some water, a few pieces of food, but locks away the chips, materials, and technology that he needs the most if he’s still going to create the incredible things that he wants to.  
  
“Okay, I’m ready,” Michael says, locking down his last box of things.  
  
Alex lifts his hand, the model car still in it. “Almost ready,” he corrects.  
  
Michael reaches out for it, his fingers brushing against Alex’s, feeling the warmth there. “Right,” he says, not sure why this means so much to Alex, but it is another piece of evidence in the mounting pile of it, as to why Alex cares so much. He unzips his bag and carefully puts the models in, along with the glue in case he wants to keep building them.  
  
“Phone,” Alex says, when Michael finishes up.  
  
Michael absolutely doesn’t want to give it up, but he does as he’s told.  
  
Unsurprisingly, Alex pries out the SIM card and then smashes it to bits on the ground. “Anything they can use to track you needs to be left behind. Is there anything else that will send them after us?”  
  
“No,” Michael guarantees. “But someone’s going to check on me eventually. They’ll raise the alarm, and then more people will come looking.”  
  
“We’ll leave a message on the way, tell them you’ve gone on vacation somewhere East.”  
  
“And where are we actually going?”  
  
Alex grabs hold of Michael’s duffels like they weigh nothing at all. “Anywhere else,” he says. “Come on. I’ll load your truck. We need to get moving before they notice that we’re going and put eyes on us.”  
  
Michael watches him go, not sure what the hell to make of this. Somehow, in the future, he’s the man inventing machines that can stop a sentient program ruling the world from completely taking over. Now, someone’s decided to come back for _him_.   
  
Who the hell is Alex Manes, he wonders, and why does Michael have the strangest feeling about him, almost like he _knows_ him already?  
  
He's in the driver’s seat of Michael’s truck, waiting for him, and that means that any theories and hypotheses are going to have to wait. Alex leans heavily on the horn, his impatience practically radiating off him, and Michael doesn’t need to see behind the sunglasses to know that he needs Michael to move his ass.  
  
“Coming!” he promises.  
  
Whoever Alex Manes is, he’ll have to figure it out on the move.  
  
This could be a huge mistake, but Michael’s taken smaller leaps of faith for less. If Alex really is here to save his life, Michael intends to give him the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise. _  
  
*  
  
_ Alex drives them to a shitty motel twenty miles outside of Roswell. He makes Michael wait in the car while he checks in, nodding towards the room once he’s got the key, then unpacks swiftly before removing the license plates from the truck. Once inside, Michael settles on the creaky bed, bouncing a few times to test it out, all while Alex stands by the door like a watchdog.   
  
“Is that what you’re gonna do all night?” he quips.  
  
“No,” Alex replies calmly. “I’ll be sleeping in bed with you once you’re tired.”  
  
There is only the one bed in the room, but that seems a little forward. “You will, huh?”  
  
“I’m your security. Don’t question me, Doctor, your life depends on it.”  
  
“It’s Michael,” he insists, _again_ , because he’s not a doctor. Not yet. “Call me Michael.”  
  
“I don’t think I can do that, Doctor.”  
  
Is that sarcasm and teasing that Michael hears in his voice? He rolls his eyes, gesturing towards Alex. “If you’re gonna lurk in here, can you at least take the sunglasses off? You’re making me wanna hum a really old song, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.”  
  
Alex scowls, but he removes the sunglasses. “Happy?”  
  
“Sometimes,” Michael quips in return. He doesn’t ask about the jacket, but he kind of likes it. It looks like the kind of thing Michael would wear, his type of fashion. Michael grabs his bag and digs into it for a new shirt. He’s still wearing the one from earlier in the day, but he gestures to it, just to make sure his babysitter is okay with the sudden movement. “I’m allowed, right?” he can’t help sarcastically commenting. As he strips off his shirt, he notices a nervous tic as Alex looks away, almost like he’s embarrassed.  
  
He doesn’t flush, though.   
  
The man is practically impenetrable, Michael thinks. He tugs on a sweater and shoves the dirty t-shirt in another part of his bag, shoving the whole thing on the floor so he can sit on the edge of the bed, eyeing the room and their current situation.   
  
His bag of clothes it at his feet, there’s a man standing guard near the door, and the rest of his things are stacked up in the corner of the motel room, brought in by Alex.   
  
Eventually, he’ll dig into them and start tinkering again to see if he can somehow bridge the gap between his unsuccessful experiments and whatever breakthrough he has to make him a successful inventor in the future. Right now, he leans over for his notebook, frowning when the pencil in the binding rolls to the ground in the process.  
  
“Here,” Alex says, from where it’s rolled over to him, bending to pick it up at the same time as Michael leans down to grab it.  
  
When he’s down there, he sees a glint of something at Alex’s ankle. He moves, cautiously, and falls to his knees to gently tug up the pants, revealing inch by inch of metal on his right leg. It’s not a prosthetic. It’s as if someone had taken the elements of muscle, skin, and bone and broken it into metal and hydraulics, an operating system that allows a machine to move like a human.  
  
“Your leg…” Michael says, not sure what to make of it.   
  
His heart stops in his chest. This is what he’s been working on, but he hasn’t been able to crack. It’s a machine. More than that, Michael is fairly sure that it’s his machine, because even though he hasn’t been able to make it happen in the lab, he recognizes his design. He reaches out tentatively to slide his fingers along the place where human skin is grafted with metal near the knee.  
  
Alex pulls back instinctively, tugging down his pants.   
  
“Why is there nothing covering that?”  
  
“You ran out of materials and it was unsafe to find more,” Alex says calmly.   
  
Michael eases back onto his feet, planting himself on the edge of the bed as he works to process what it is he’s seen, what he’s hearing.  
  
The fact that Alex is a machine is a secondary fact that he’s not paying much mind to. Somehow, that’s not bugging Michael, though he knows he’s going to have a thousand questions about how that can be possible. Alex clearly feels emotion. He’s driven by his own selfish desires. While he’s obviously mechanical with his emotions, he _has_ them.  
  
Whatever genius ideas his future self had, Michael is nowhere near those capabilities, and he finds himself oddly jealous of _himself_ , if such a thing is possible.   
  
“I made you?”  
  
He’s not sure that he needs to ask the question. Alex has come right out and said that. Given the earlier failure, it’s something that seems impossible. Alex is whole and human in a way that Michael can’t even begin to understand. This goes beyond his skills with engineering and broaches into something incredible.   
  
Whatever happens between now and the future, he’s definitely picked up a few new skills.   
  
Alex nods, but he looks reverent and appreciative. There’s something in Michael’s chest bursting to try and get out, and he thinks it’s a combination of elation and pride and relief. He’s not a failure, not if he’s made someone so incredible. Michael had genuinely been fooled until he’d seen the leg.  
  
He'd done that.  
  
 _How_ the hell he did, that’s the next question. Instead of focusing on that dilemma, Michael chooses to pick the more short-term problem.   
  
“So, what next?” he asks.  
  
Alex almost looks surprised that Michael’s changed the subject, but the relief is short lived. The steely, neutral expression returns to his face and Michael can only assume he’s running through his database of what needs to happen in order to keep them safe.  
  
“I’m going to use the lobby’s phone to call a few of your contacts,” he says. “Give me their names, I’ll let them know that you’re going on a long vacation.”  
  
“…how?” Michael asks suspiciously.  
  
Then, Alex opens his mouth and without moving, Michael’s voice comes out. “…oh, come on, Alex, you can’t tell me that you’re planning to beat me at chess again.” Michael’s taken aback, blinking, and without pausing, Michael’s voice coming out of Alex’s mouth shifts to something more subdued and serious, continuing: “Hey, it’s me. It’s been hell at work and I know I’ve been stressed, so I thought I’d take some time and disconnect up in Maine, maybe get fresh eyes on my projects.”  
  
Michael’s never said _any_ of that, but it’s coming out of Alex’s mouth like a recording.  
  
“Okay,” Michael finally says, a touch paler for the proof that Alex is absolutely a machine. “You can definitely tell them I’m on vacation,” he says, reaching for a notepad to scribble down Isobel, Max, Liz, and Maria’s names. Between the four of them, he can convince them that he’s gone off the grid to play at being a man of nature.   
  
Sure, it will only work for a while before the alarm is raised, but he suspects that Alex only needs a few days to really get them protected.  
  
“Be careful,” Michael warns when Alex opens the door to leave.  
  
“I’ll be fine, Doctor,” he reassures, adjusting his sunglasses. “Don’t go anywhere.”  
  
Michael scoffs. “What, and leave these fancy digs?” he jokes, pressing his hands into the mattress to bounce a few times, highlighting the squeaky springs on the bed that might just collapse under his weight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”   
  
Alex closes the door behind him and Michael breathes out slowly as he paces for a while, trying to calm his racing mind.   
  
There’s so much to process and he doesn’t know where to start. His gaze slides to the model cars, then to his notebook, and while his fingers fidget for something to do, he knows he shouldn’t waste all the ideas rattling around in his mind. _  
  
_Alex comes back while Michael is in the middle of making notations in his book. Even being around Alex for a few hours has given him an onslaught of ideas the likes of which he’s never had before. “We good?” he checks.  
  
“All the messages have been delivered,” Alex confirms. “Your family and friends sounded relieved. I think they’re under the impression that you’re a workaholic.”  
  
“They’re not wrong,” Michael concedes. “It’s less about the work and more about my stubborn inability to let myself fail. Every time I run up against a wall, I keep going, because no one’s gonna push me down and make me a failure, not even my own brain.”  
  
“You’re incredible, Doctor.”  
  
“Michael,” he insists again.   
  
Alex shakes his head, as if he’s not going to give in that easily, and Michael decides that he’s only going to drive himself crazy if he keeps insisting. Maybe it’s best to drop it. If a super-hot self-professed man from the future wants to be kinky and call him by a title he doesn’t have, then so be it.   
  
The day’s been long and truthfully, Michael’s not tired, but if he doesn’t lie down, he’ll never get near sleep. Despite the shitty motel cover, the creaky bedsprings, he’s going to try and go to bed.   
  
Eyeing Alex warily from where he’s sitting, he thinks there’s one last thing he needs to know before he tries.  
  
“Do you sleep?”  
  
“I can mimic it,” Alex confirms. “If that’s what you’d like.”  
  
Michael’s not sure what he wants. “Hey, you do you,” he insists. “But I’m exhausted. I don’t know if you noticed, but it’s been kind of a crazy day with this robot coming back from the future and telling me that he needs to save my life.”   
  
He pulls at the covers, shifting underneath them.   
  
Alex follows, which is strange, and then lies down on the bed as well. When Michael is done getting comfortable, he turns over to find Alex is there too, lying practically on top of him. It’s not that Michael’s never been with anyone, but this is definitely jumping from zero to sixty, even for him. “Hi,” he deadpans.   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“You’re uh, a little close,” Michael feels inclined to point out, because it’s not like there isn’t space. They have a whole queen bed for Alex to sprawl out on, but he’s elected to burrow in this close to Michael, leaving a precise three inches between them.   
  
“It’s for your own safety,” Alex replies calmly.   
  
“So you’re not gonna sleep.”  
  
“I don’t require it. When I replace my battery, I’ll gain all the energy I need.”  
  
“And how often do you do that?”  
  
“You built me with a new, heretofore undiscovered element. It will keep me charged for ten years before it requires a replacement.”  
  
Michael wonders how many replacements he created, his eyes sliding to the bag that Alex had brought back with him.   
  
“There are three in there.”  
  
“And when’s that element get discovered?” he asks.  
  
“You never told me,” Alex says. “I’ll be fine, Doctor. Please. Sleep. You need your rest. There’s much for you to do, even if we are to be trapped here together for the time being.”   
  
Michael lets his gaze slide over Alex’s handsome face. Without the sunglasses on, he can see that he looks so human. There even appear to be wrinkles near his eyes, and there’s a scar on his forehead. Michael wonders if that’s from battle or if he was built that way, but he doesn’t ask.  
  
He brushes his thumb over the scar, holding in his breath, and lets his gaze flicker down to Alex’s lips. There’s a million and one questions he wants to ask about Alex’s programming, his makeup, his system, but for now, Michael slides his thumb down Alex’s temple, and presses his other hand over the space where his heart belongs.  
  
There’s a dull heartbeat, which means he’s given Alex some form of circulatory system, and honestly, his future self seems incredible to Michael. He’s trapped in his own shadow, feeling like he’s drowning in it.  
  
“Go to sleep, Michael,” Alex breathes out.  
  
“That’s my name,” Michael agrees, wildly proud that Alex has actually used it. “And I will. Don’t go anywhere.”  
  
“I wouldn’t.”  
  
Michael closes his eyes, his hand remaining on Alex’s heart as he allows himself to drift off into a half-asleep trance, where he doesn’t dream and he’s not awake, but he’s not entirely sure that he's anything but paralyzed with exhaustion.   
  
He’s safe. He’s secure.  
  
He’s with Alex.  
  
 _*  
  
_ Waiting with no prospect of a plan has got to be one of the worst forms of torture that Michael’s ever experienced. Alex goes out to get them food and report on the latest news, but he’s been wary about his trips, citing satellite imagery and that once they find him, it’s all over. _  
  
_“I can’t stay here forever,” Michael complains, when a week has passed in the motel. “If Skynet doesn’t kill me, the shitty drink selection from the pop machine will.”  
  
Alex has been sitting on the bed for the last four hours. He’s been staring at Michael unflinchingly, which has been its own kind of unnerving.  
  
“Can you at least blink?” he demands.  
  
Alex, very pointedly, takes off his sunglasses enough that Michael can see his eyes, and then blinks twice with very slow, deliberate motions. Michael rolls his eyes, wondering why the hell his future self had allowed his machine to have such a personality, especially when it has so much sass filling up one body.   
  
That does bring up a lot more questions.  
  
“What was the deal between us?”  
  
“You’re my creator. You gave me sentience via my chip,” Alex explains.  
  
“Great, cool, but what’s the deal between us?” Michael reiterates, when it’s clear that Alex didn’t answer the question that he’s actually asking. “You came back in time to save my life. And you say it’s to save the world, but I don’t know that it is. Because we’re not out there on the offensive. I’m pretty sure the only thing sitting in this motel room is doing is making sure that I don’t die.”  
  
He should feel guilty that he’s tearing down Alex’s emotional blockade, but he needs answers.  
  
“You’re here for me. Why?”  
  
“You’re my creator,” says Alex again, but it’s feeble this time, weaker. “You gave me…”  
  
“What did I do for you?” Michael interrupts, shouting at him. He wants to steal his jacket and run. He wants to get the hell out of there, because he’s going stir-crazy.  
  
“You’re my creator,” Alex repeats, his voice soft, his gaze fixed on Michael, “and I’m in love with you.”  
  
“You’re a machine, Alex,” Michael says, as gently as he can.  
  
He wants to ask if he even understands love, but he can’t bring himself to say the words.   
  
“You’re a genius,” Alex counters. “Are you telling me that you couldn’t build something that developed its own personality, its own mind, their own feelings?”  
  
“Then why’d you go and fall for an idiot like me?”   
  
Alex slowly rises to his feet and approaches Michael, cupping his cheek in his hand. “You’ve told me multiple times how high your intellect is rated. Your passion, your determination, your mind, your looks,” he lists. “They’re all appealing. You’re appealing. You didn’t have to be my creator for me to fall in love with you, but knowing that you gave me the heart I needed to do it, it makes me feel like we’re…”  
  
“Connected,” Michael fills in the blank for him.  
  
Michael gave him the means to fall in love. Why’s he arguing so passionately against the fact that Alex went and _did_?   
  
“You never let us talk about this in the future,” Alex says quietly. “You didn’t believe me. You said that my programming was erroneous, that I couldn’t fall in love, but you never doubted that I felt other emotions. You never questioned my sympathy when I had to help you when your hands trembled. You never doubted my happiness when we solved a problem together. You even acknowledged my frustration and anger with the state of the world.”  
  
His future self sounds cold, almost distant.   
  
“I don’t understand why I wouldn’t trust your belief that you fell for me.”  
  
“I suspect that you did believe me,” Alex admits. “And you lied in order to protect yourself. You didn’t think that you were worthy of affection. I suspect that you also saw yourself as old, perhaps not suitable for a model of my appearance.”  
  
Michael’s not surprised that his future self has some weird self-esteem issues, so he guesses that means he never got over that fun little souvenir from the group home.   
  
“You’re back in time to save my life, so I’m dead there. Right? I can’t imagine you’d leave me for any other reason.”  
  
Alex doesn’t respond, but his jaw clicks and he averts his gaze.  
  
It’s exactly the kind of awkward reaction that confirms Michael’s suspicions. “Okay,” he says, because Alex is from a far point in the future. Honestly, Michael’s a little surprised that he doesn’t go out sooner, so maybe he should be proud of how far he made it. “Did I ever let on what I felt about you?”  
  
“You always welcomed my companionship,” Alex says. “You didn’t want me to get hurt, and you would play me music that you liked, often inviting me to dance. You treated me with compassion and respect and love. You showed me kindness. You allowed me to learn about my humanity.”  
  
So how could his future self be surprised when Alex developed the ability to love?  
  
“Do you still love me?” Michael asks. “I’m not the same man.”  
  
“You’re more stubborn,” Alex concedes. “Far more brash. I believe your sense of humor has become much pithier. Your ability to hone your talents and focus on your work has clearly developed over time. Yet, you’re as handsome as when I first opened my eyes and looked at you. You’re brilliant. You’re kind. And you trust with all your heart, allowing me your loyalty despite only knowing me for hours.”  
  
Michael’s not sure if that’s a yes or not.  
  
He’s not sure why he cares so much, especially when it’s a minefield of complicated emotions the way he’s looking at it.   
  
“I’m a person, as much as anyone,” Alex says in his own quiet defense. “I may not have red blood and my heart may not beat naturally, but you allowed me sentience. You gave me the ability to feel, to grieve, to ache, and to rejoice. With that, I choose to love, and I choose to love you.”  
  
No one’s ever chosen Michael before, not like this.   
  
“So that’s the deal between us, huh?”  
  
Alex gives him a rueful smile. “You want me to take any of it back?”  
  
Michael shakes his head. “Fuck, no, not a single word,” he breathes out, a little stunned by how much he wants to cling to Alex’s words, relishing the fact that someone _wants_ him as much as Alex does.   
  
He could tell himself that it’s all fake. Maybe he put in a line of programming that made Alex love him, but hearing that his future self had been trying to deny this makes him think that’s not the case.  
  
Whatever comes next, wherever they do go, Michael basks in the knowledge that for once, he had someone who wants _him_ for who he is, past and present and future.  
  
 _*  
  
_ Another week passes in the same holding pattern.  
  
Michael has little more to do than to go over his sketches and plans, but he’s also taken to running all the possible scenarios when it comes to the doomsday scene that Alex has painted.   
  
One thing has become imminently and utterly clear. _  
  
_“We can’t stop them,” Michael admits. “Skynet. These assholes. We can’t stop them, can we?”  
  
He’s gone over all the possibilities and the plans. They don’t have the weapons to mount a strike, they don’t have the allies to start a war, and they absolutely don’t have any leverage to be able to get what they want. All they have is a brain – his brain – and if they can’t stop them, they can do one thing.  
  
They can make sure that Skynet doesn’t win.  
  
It’s not going to be an exciting life. There won’t be battles and epic fights. Michael knows the only way to win this war is to take himself off the board.  
  
“Then what do we do?” Alex asks.  
  
Michael gives Alex a fond smile, because he knows he’s being humored. He knows that Alex already knows exactly what has to happen.  
  
“I have to disappear,” Michael admits. “But you already knew that.”  
  
“I did,” Alex confirms. “It was best if you reached the conclusion on your own time.”  
  
“So that’s my life, huh?” Michael scoffs. “I guess it’s not that different from the way I was living. I was already locked away with my own research most of the time. This time, I’m doing it knowing that I’m protecting an asset. This big ol’ brain of mine might actually do something.” He shakes his head, pressing his lips together, as it hits him that he’s doing this.   
  
The thing is, Michael has to disappear.   
  
Alex doesn’t.   
  
“You could go back to the future, can’t you?” Michael says. “I saw the device you used to activate it. It’s probably able to be recharged with something like a solar power source, which we have in abundance.”  
  
Alex doesn’t say anything, his gaze fixed on Michael.  
  
“How come you haven’t gone back? If this works, then I should be there, right? I’ll be alive, well, and the world will be saved. It’ll be different.”  
  
“If I go back, then you’ll be alone.”  
  
Michael manages a weary smile, because he also knows that. He’s wondering if Alex has been waiting for him to reach that conclusion too. He’s been alone before. He’d spent his childhood alone, all those teen years learning about who he was and what he could do. Loneliness isn’t a new thing for him, and from the sounds of the future, it keeps happening until he creates Alex.   
  
“You don’t have to be alone, Michael,” Alex says. “My purpose is to serve you and save the world. I’ve done that. I could go back,” he allows. “But you’ll have spent the years leading up to it alone. Maybe you won’t even remember me, maybe you won’t be there. Or I could stay here, if you’d let me. If you wanted me.”  
  
Michael can feel his breath catching in his throat.   
  
“And if I go back, then I’ll also be alone in a different way. If this works, you and I won’t be alone in a bunker together, playing chess, making model cars. You’ll have a life. There’ll be a world. You won’t be dead, but you won’t only be mine.”   
  
It’s the first that he’s come out and admitted out loud that Michael’s not there in the future, though it hadn’t been hard to guess.  
  
He wants to ask Alex to stay, he just doesn’t know how to do that without putting the fate of the world on the backburner. It feels like he’s demanding Alex’s presence because he might be lonely.   
  
“I don’t want you go back,” he confesses. “I don’t wanna be alone in this, Alex. I don’t want to be so lonely that I invent my friends,” he protests, even though he can’t say he’d done the wrong thing, if it’s given him Alex. “I don’t know how I feel about you, yet. I don’t even know the ins and outs of how you work, not really. I just know that I don’t want you to go back to the future.”  
  
There’s no response from Alex, which stings and makes Michael worried that he’s said the wrong thing.   
  
“Alex,” he pleads.  
  
“I’ll pack the bags,” Alex says. “Come on, Michael,” he adds, casually dropping his name as if he hasn’t been using ‘Doctor’ as a barrier between them, that’s suddenly come plummeting down. “We need to leave here soon.”   
  
_We_ , he said. Michael can’t help the way he tips his head to the side, overwhelmed with relief for the fact that he won’t be alone.  
  
“The motel will be compromised soon. There’s a cabin that you told me about near here. It’s disconnected from the world and has a bunker system for you to practice your work in.” Michael wonders if it’s the same one they had in the future or another, but it doesn’t matter. “It won’t be a happy life, Michael. You’ll be saving the world, but in order to do that, I need to keep you off the grid.”  
  
“The first time, I invented all this, but I was alone. Right?”  
  
“My records show that your casual relationships stopped in 2020,” Alex confirms. “From now until the day I am created, you didn’t have any long-term friendships or relationships. You became a hermit, devoted to your work, but unfortunately you also allowed yourself to be an easy target.”  
  
“So there you go,” Michael says, like it’s as easy as that. “This time, I’ve got you.”  
  
“You’ll always have me, Michael.”  
  
He’d created Alex. It only seems right that he’ll be there to see him at the end.   
  
Maybe this time, they can make it a better one, on their terms.   
  
This time, maybe Michael gets to save the whole damn world.  
  
“All right,” he says. “Daylight’s burning and the apocalypse is on its way. No time to spare.”


End file.
